expected from someone of her station, her eyes were fearless and determined, but there was also some wilderness that hid behind them, a feral quality that somewhat belied her elegant composure. It was a contradiction that D_Light found most intriguing.
I want you to know that I harbor no ill feelings toward you with regard to the matter between you and Fael. Lyra’s voice was transmitted telepathically, using Smorgeous as a security intermediary.
This was completely unexpected, both the message and the method of delivery. It was highly irregular for members of unequal social classes to blink one another. Lyra’s lynx familiar had locked eyes with Smorgeous for optimal communion. D_Light was caught off guard by the blink, but he promptly gave a telepathic reply. Thank you, Mother. I never intended-
I do not want an apology, Lyra interrupted. I watched the archive. You did what you thought sensible, and it appears to have paid off well. Clearly, Fael underestimated you. It was her own ambition that was her undoing.
D_Light sent the next thought that came to him. Mother, if you saw the archive, then you know I did not have to frag her. I could have let her go.
D_Light immediately regretted the response, wondering why he was insisting on apologizing when she had expressly stated that she did not want one. He silently chastised himself for his pathetic behavior.
Lyra smiled at him shrewdly. Well, I’m sure you know that if you had let sweet Fael live, every girl with a pretty smile would think she could get a free pass. And then what kind of player would you be?
A dead one, D_Light thought, although he kept this superfluous thought to himself.
Lyra’s eyes softened and the taut skin of her face relaxed as she turned away from D_Light. I like that you felt something for her, D_Light. Watching the two of you together… Lyra hesitated for a moment. Well, I would say she was fond of you as well. Sure, she was willing to cash you in, but that does not mean that under other circumstances you two could not have been friends. Or more.
As she sent that thought, she turned and looked directly into D_Light. His heart seemed to stop for a moment as he became simultaneously afraid and thrilled by her intense green eyes.
“Lyra, what are you doing?” The nobleman in the chair looked back and forth between Lyra and D_Light. His tone was not one of urgency, but of mild curiosity and possible irritation.
“Just making our new friend feel at ease,” Lyra said aloud. As the blink terminated, D_Light felt as though something warm had just fled his mind. He lamented the loss of their private telepathic communication.
As though taking a cue, the monstrous birdman flew up onto one of the arches high overhead. It then perched itself, swinging its giant webbed feet under the rafter while contently watching over the room.
“Djoser, this is D_Light, level eighty-three player and resident of the upper east wing of this little pile of stones,” Lyra declared. Then, gesturing toward the nobleman, she said, “D_Light, this is Father Djoser Townsend, third son of the First Grandfather of Townsend.” D_Light stood and bowed low to the confirmed noble.
Mother Lyra brought her hands together and interlaced her fingers. “So now that you are comfortable, properly introduced, and stuffed with fine chocolate, let me tell you why you were summoned here.”
D_Light felt a slight knot in his stomach. He bowed to his mother and then stood alert.
“Our house has been selected for this month’s MetaGame,” Lyra said. “Father Townsend and I have been invited to be the players. According to the rules, participants in the game are allowed to bring along an advisor. I was planning on taking Fael, as I always do, but due to recent events, I thought it appropriate for you to take her place.”
D_Light stood dumbfounded, half wondering if he had heard correctly. MetaGames were reserved for nobility and their closest entourage, and he certainly did not qualify as either. He hesitated before responding to make sure that he did not speak over Lyra. “Mother, I am at your service,” he declared. Another bow.
“Have you ever played a MetaGame before?” inquired Djoser, making no attempt to mask his skepticism.
D_Light assumed it was he who was being addressed. “No, Father,” he replied.
“What makes you qualified to advise anyone playing a MetaGame?” Djoser barked at him.
“I, um…I do not know for sure, Father. From what I understand, every game is unique.” D_Light had no idea what to tell the man, for he was just as surprised as Djoser.
“Lyra, is this a joke?” asked Djoser while looking at her severely. “This is a high-stakes game. If you are going to invite a pleb, at least choose someone useful!”
“He will be,” Lyra answered, her voice cool and unaffected.
“Really? What did you say he does? Makes avatars like…like that thing?” Djoser pointed up at the birdman in the rafters.
D_Light felt his gut wrench, for in actuality he designed and built all sorts of software, not just avatars. He hated it when people wrote him off as a designer of useless toys and tricks. However, D_Light knew it imprudent to correct his father. Besides, the man was probably right that his day-today skill set might not be all that useful in a real-life game.
A brown hawk with gray flecks swooped down from a high, dark marble fireplace mantle and landed directly across from Lyra’s lynx; it was the nobleman’s familiar. The two creatures locked eyes, and for several minutes the nobles discoursed silently, punctuated only with a variety of eye maneuvers (rolling eyes being the most common), hand gestures, sighs, and occasional laughs of contempt.
Finally, Lyra turned to D_Light and said, “We shall see you at sixteen hundred tomorrow. The game starts at sixteen thirty. I trust you will be prepared.”
“Yes, my lady,” D_Light confirmed. He bowed once to each of the nobles and did his best to back out of the room gracefully. He nearly tripped.
CHAPTER 6
Grinder games, which underlie the major economic activity of the Game, are firmly grounded in twentieth- century psychology. Rather than simply furnishing a framework for “productive work,” grinder games are designed to facilitate a state of “flow” in the player. Flow, first proposed by positive psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, is a state of consciousness where you are so immersed in your activity that you lose yourself in the “doing.” You lose your sense of time, replacing it with a state of energized focus. People who experience flow later report a sense of well-being and accomplishment.
Spanker games, by their very nature, send players effortlessly into flow, while it takes everything from sound psychology, engineering, and perhaps even a touch of inspiration to design a grinder game that facilitates flow. But I assure you it is worth it. Game software has not only the potential to maximize the productivity of countless “workers,” but can instill the greatest gift of all-happiness.
Todget grudgingly awakened. How could he sleep with that female thrashing and moaning next to him? He asked himself again why he slept in the same bed with that creature. Their humble apartment consisted of only a single room with an attached bathroom, but he could always sleep on the floor. That would be easy for him. Years ago when he was playing the running game in the Land of the Stag, Todget slept wherever he needed to. Crushed ferns placed beneath him provided more than adequate comfort, and with a blanket of heavy evergreen branches and some debris from a rotten log to provide camouflage and to mask his scent, he had himself an honest night’s sleep.
Sleeping in a bed for the last two years had made him soft, but Todget felt compelled to keep Lily as close as possible. Todget, like all of his tribe, was strong, fast, and cunning. He would protect her. We only have each other, he often reminded himself. As fugitives, they were pitted against the entire world. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before they were caught and killed-or worse yet, taken back. Nevertheless, he would keep her close and safe until his last breath.
